


I Nearly Lost You

by RockingItInAParallelUniverse



Category: The Smiths
Genre: Confusion, Devious Morrissey, Freeform, M/M, Marrissey, RPF, Valentine's Day Fluff, jealous johnny, pining Morrissey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 16:27:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22718875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockingItInAParallelUniverse/pseuds/RockingItInAParallelUniverse
Summary: Morrissey tries to make Johnny jealous by wooing a fan. Will his plan work or backfire?
Relationships: Johnny Marr/Morrissey
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	I Nearly Lost You

**Author's Note:**

> A Valentine's Day Marrissey ficlet.
> 
> Takes place during The Smiths era. Angie doesn't exist (sorry, Angie). This work is a whole lotta fiction with very little reality. Crackish.
> 
> TW: Mild non/con elements but nothing graphic

Johnny Marr wasn't used to dealing with regret or self-flagellation. That was more Moz's thing. Johnny preferred moving forward, eyes focused on all the possibilities and promises just over the horizon in the not-so-distant future. So this swamp of self-doubt and reflection was uncharted territory for the guitarist.

His band, The Smiths, had just finished their (in his mind, at least) best show ever in Leeds. Johnny should be focused on the line of adoring fans, (especially the prettier ones) who were queuing for his autograph. But he just couldn't. Not when Morrissey was eye-fucking one of his many admirers. This particular gentleman(ha!) had been bold enough to break through security to climb on stage and grope Moz from behind. And Morrissey told a stage hand to seek out this bloke and invite him backstage after the gig. What the actual fuck? Moz was celibate, uninterested in sex, disgusted by human relationships. Johnny thought this to himself, shaking his head at the sad state of affairs. Morrissey was the last person in the world he'd ever pegged for getting off with a fan.

It didn't matter that Johnny constantly goaded Moz about his asexual existence. That he encouraged the singer to seek out attention from the audience. Or that he had been quoted on several occasions by the press stating all Morrissey needed was a good humping. The willowy front man wasn't supposed to act on it. Johnny just wanted to watch him blush and squirm and lick his lips incessantly with his nimble, pink tongue. His perceived innocence and and shy persona made him a media darling, and The Smiths, by default reaped the rewards of all this attention. So Johnny's taunts and prodding were just a marketing ploy. And a form of entertainment.

But Morrissey was taking it too far. This bloke had his hand on Mozzer's thigh. He was a dirty-blonde, quiff-wearing, bespectacled leech. And now he was using his leech lips to suck a trail down Moz's neck. Johnny ripped a program from one his fan's hands a bit too harshly. Fuck. He smiled extra broadly and gave the girl a hug in apology. He tried desperately to keep his eyes on his own admirers and disregard what Morrissey was doing. But was the leech sitting in Moz's lap now? Fuck.

******

Morrissey finally had Johnny's attention. He was positively certain of it when he saw the black-haired guitarist practically take a pretty, young thing's hands off when he snatched the paper from her to autograph. Johnny was always courteous and sweet with fans. It made the slimy, uncomfortable kisses that Justin was slathering on his neck tolerable. He pulled the young man onto his lap to hopefully stop the onslaught of saliva on his skin and to send another dagger into Johnny's heart.

"When can we get out of here?" Justin whispered in his ear, rutting on his lap.

"At least another hour before we're free, darling," he cooed, dragging his fingers through Justin's hair. He glanced at Johnny then and their eyes met. Morrissey was surprised not to hear a crack of thunder from the lightning bolt of emotion Johnny's brown eyes hurled in his direction. This was so much fun!

"My place or yours?" Justin's lips brushed his ear once more.

"Yours. I want to see where you live," Moz said loud enough for Johnny to hear. He fluttered his lashes at Justin and slowly licked his lips. Johnny dropped his pen. Morrissey smiled.

"I'm not sure I can wait that long, baby," Justin replied, reaching between his legs to palm Morrissey's crotch.

Moz inhaled sharply. This wasn't a game to Justin. He understood that. He could feel Justin's desire when he grabbed him from behind on the stage. Stage invasions were nothing new to Morrissey, but Justin's was especially memorable because there was no mistaking the feel of a hard-on pressed against the back of Moz's thigh. He realized then that any advances he made toward the lad would not be rejected. And Johnny's reaction when he had a stage hand find the boy was priceless. He dropped an entire bottle of water on his suede moccasins! And then blushed bright red! Johnny never blushes. He is always calm, cool and always in control. Morrissey felt a great deal of satisfaction to finally be able to unnerve Johnny Marr.

"I need to talk to you now, Morrissey. Alone." Johnny was stood in front of him, trying to look tall. And mean. He skewered Justin with a look of pure hate. But Justin did not budge from his perch on Morrissey's lap.

"Darling, excuse me for a moment. I'll be right back," Moz said as he shifted to his left to ease the dirty-blonde man from his lap to the bench. He strutted the same way he did on stage as Johnny trailed behind him to their dressing room.

******

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Johnny hissed at Morrissey's back once they were safely locked in their dressing room.

"I'm setting myself up for a good lay, Johnny. I thought it was obvious," Morrissey challenged, folding his thin arms across his chest, nose raised to an appropriately haughty level.

Johnny tried not to blanche at Moz's bluntness. "You're celibate or have you forgotten?" he snapped.

"You and Andy and Mike have me re-evaluating my stance on sex. You three always go on wildly about how great one-night stands are. Meaningless lust, correct?" He raised one bushy eyebrow.

"But you said you don't care about sex. That nothing turns you on. So why would you want that, that leech Justin? What about him does it for you, Moz?" Johnny hated the way his voice cracked. He hated that he could hear the pleading tone in it.

Morrissey appeared unmoved by his words. "I'd have to be dead not to feel what he wants. Why do you think I had Chris find him for me after security took him away?"

"That's what he wants. What do you want, Steven?"

"Steven? Really, Johnny? Steven?" Morrissey studied his fingernails. "Give me three reasons why sex with Justin would be so horrible."

Johnny sputtered like a 1930's engine. "He's using you!"

"And I'm using him."

"But that's not you! You don't do that. You're different!"

"I am human and I need to be loved. Just like everybody else does. So the song goes. Or maybe 'I am human and I need to be fucked' would be more appropriate."

Johnny's jaw dropped. Who is this person in front of him? "He might be rough, Moz. He could hurt you."

"Maybe I'll like it rough." Morrissey had a far away look in his eyes. "Maybe that's what it takes to arouse me. Someone who will just take me and fuck me senseless."

"What are you on, Morrissey? Did Andy give you something before the show?" That's the only reasonable explanation for the singer's behavior. Johnny needed to get to the bottom of this. No pun intended. Shit. He was trapped with the image of Morrissey begging for someone to fuck him senseless. Well, not just someone. That leech, Justin. He scowled at the bitter taste in his mouth. 

"I'm still waiting for three reasons not to go home with him." Morrissey gazed at the top of Johnny's head. "I might even settle for one, if it's compelling enough."

Johnny paced back and forth. His friend, his writing partner of two years does not behave this way. He just doesn't. If anything, Johnny thought the man harbored a crush on him. That if anyone would be able to sway Morrissey from celibacy, it would be Johnny. He had imagined the scenario once or twice. Ok. Maybe a lot more than once or twice. It always followed a certain routine. He would play a lonely melody on his guitar and Moz would nibble on the end of his pen.

"What do you think of these words, Johnny?" Moz would shyly ask, a dusting of pink on his cheeks. 

Johnny would lay his guitar to the side and roll to his stomach, looking at Morrissey with eager anticipation. They were always on a bed. Writing music together. And Morrissey would utter poetic words about love, veiled sexual references and something specific about their relationship. A car ride. A drunken afternoon. A stroll across an iron bridge. Their eyes would lock and they'd crawl toward each other until they were face to face. After what seemed an eternity, their lips would find each other. Clothes would disappear. And Johnny would press his wiry body against Mozzer's lanky one and...

"I'm going back to Justin since you have nothing to say to dissuade me."

"Wait!" Johnny inelegantly squeaked.

******

This was agonizing for Morrissey. He needed to come up with an excuse quickly to avoid being ravaged by Justin. He should have known better than to play a game like this. He'll just get rid of his admirer without Johnny seeing it. He might have to go home with the boy and make a break for it then. Johnny begged him to wait just before Moz left the safety of the dressing room.

"You've finally thought of something?" Morrissey was pleased with the level of indifference and condescension in his voice.

Johnny stepped between him and the dressing room door, hands on his hips. "I want you."

His blue eyes widened in surprise. "Could you say that again? I think I misunderstood."

"You did not. You heard me. I want you, Morrissey." His brown eyes always captured Moz's attention, but the hooded gaze he received sent shivers up and down his spine. "If anyone is gonna fuck you senseless, it will be me!"

He felt Johnny's arms around him, his warm lips against his own. But Morrissey took a small step back, breaking the contact.

"What's wrong, Mozzer? You want him, not me?" Johnny looked terrified.

Morrissey simply had to savor the feeling of triumph. But only for a second. Then he squeezed the guitarist's lithe body against him and whispered "You are the only one I want. What took you so long to figure it out?"

Johnny answered by licking his way into Morrissey's mouth. It's not exactly what he wanted to hear, but it will do nicely. For now.

******

Johnny had a sneaking suspicion he'd just been played like a chess piece, but this didn't bother him. He was giddy. He made no effort to hide his glee when Mozzer squashed Justin's lustful advances like a cockroach. In fact, he turned to the dirty-blonde and said," Ta Ra, Leech" as he wrapped his arm around Morrissey's waist.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Screaming Trees song by the same name. 
> 
> Kudos and comments/suggestions are always welcome. Even on a crack piece like this.


End file.
